


Haunting

by PrinceofFlowers



Series: The Fanfics that Gabo Deserves [7]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gabo deserves better but still gonna put this in the series, M/M, kinda angsty, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceofFlowers/pseuds/PrinceofFlowers
Summary: Reaper discovers an old love of his.The ghost of Gabriel Reyes haunts his home, mourning what could have been.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write angst what the hell

Reaper remembered him.

Remembered how small he was, all wrapped in his arms, radiating heat like his very own furnace.

Reaper remembered how gentle he was, how his voice was usually so soft, how he was usually so quiet.

He remembered how loud he could get when he was excited or angry, how the fire of the passion those dark eyes of his held as he spoke, or shouted.

And part of him wondered if he remembered him, as well.

So he searched.

He looked for his past sweetheart, and found him in a quiet country side.

Growing a garden, just like he remembered.

He always wanted a garden.

Reaper remembered those night, holding him as they drifted off to sleep, his voice a sleepy murmur as he spoke of their future home together.

Reaper, then Gabriel Reyes, preferred to be closer to the city, which his beloved was also alright with.

But he was also a bit of a hermit when left alone.

His current home reflected this.

He was all alone now.

Overwatch was disbanded, and Gabriel Reyes was dead.

His family was dead.

He had no one left.

So he left, and he began life in the countryside, undisturbed.

Until Reaper found him, that is.

He could sense someone watching him.

He had heard the stories of someone hunting ex-Overwatch agents, and wondered if that included Blackwatch.

Well, until he reminded himself that most Blackwatch members were traitors, and the reason why Overwatch collapsed anyways.

Perhaps they'd be after him for that, as well.

He thought over what he would do, and decided that if they wanted to kill him, they could.

He had nothing left to live for, anyways.

But if they were going to take him alive and brainwash him, he'd kill himself.

However, it seemed that whoever was tailing him didn't have that in mind.

They seemed to simply watch.

Every now and then, he'd catch glimpses of dark whisps, like shadows coming to life.

But perhaps they were merely hallucinations.

Sometimes, they would leave, and he'd feel strangely alone when they did, but they always returned.

Reaper always returned.

He couldn't help himself.

Seeing him again, seeing how the years, although having had taken so many from him, had been kind in his aging.

It was odd to see the peppering of grey in his hair, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes.

He despaired at the frown lines.

He always looked better with a smile.

His laugh had been his favorite sound.

He didn't like seeing him so somber and melancholy.

But at the same time, he could not blame him.

Reaper felt sorrow, then rage as he thought of what could have and should have been.

If he had been promoted to Strike Commander.

If they had gotten the chance to have a proper marriage.

Buy their home in the city, or maybe the suburbs.

Live together, smiling, laughing, enjoying life.

And maybe, some day, making new life.

They would have both been wonderful fathers.

They would have made beautiful children, all a gorgeous mix of the two.

But that future was stolen from them.

And now, it can only ever exist in their dreams.

Reaper would watch him dream most nights.

Seeing him lying there, curled up in a nest of blankets and pillows, soft snores sounding more like whistles.

Usually, he looked peaceful, and seeing such peace on his face soothed Reaper's soul.

But some nights, his face scrunched up as he whimpered and trembled beneath his blankets.

Nightmares.

Gabriel Reyes remembered comforting him in the past.

Remembered being comforted.

Reaper remembered as well.

So much so that on instinct, he reached out to caress his cheek.

And woke him up.

Bleary dark eyes looked up at him, unfocused, only able to make out a dark figure with a splash of white where the face would be.

His first reaction was to freeze, shutting his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow, as if he were sleeping.

But Reaper could hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

He could also hear the slight wheeze it made, his heart murmur.

Reaper cooed softly to him, voice a soothing rumble as he stroked his hair.

He remembered that nothing soothed him more than having his hair played with, or having his scalp scratched.

Soon Reaper could hear his heart beat return to normal, could feel the tension ease from his muscles.

So he withdrew his hand, though he was reluctant to do so.

He thought that perhaps he'd simply go back to sleep, but instead he reached for his glasses, and sat up, peering up at him.

Reaper's breath caught in his throat as he was studied.

Recognition, mixed with disbelief, filled his eyes, and he found his voice, firm and loud despite how shaken he was.

He questioned who Reaper was.

Not what.

But either way, Reaper answered.

He was just a ghost, and like a ghost, he vanished, ignoring the cries for Gabriel Reyes.

Well, ignored for now.

He knew he'd be back later, watching from the shadows.

A ghost haunting an old man on the countryside, yearning for what could have been.

**Author's Note:**

> NO PROOFREADING WE DIE LIKE MEN


End file.
